


My tradition is in the art of superstition

by Snakebxte



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snakebxte/pseuds/Snakebxte
Summary: For just one night, Hayato decides to relax.
Relationships: Hayato | Falkner/Matsuba | Morty
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	My tradition is in the art of superstition

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!  
> So this is absolutely my first time posting on ao3 ever so I'm a little shy about doing so.   
> This is from my Hayato rp blog on tumblr, and the prompt that brought it about was nonsexual Intimacy (back scratches)(washing their hair)(sharing the same bed).  
> So please enjoy all you honorshippers out there C:

It’s one of those rare early days that Hayato encounters every once in a blue moon, where everything lines up  _ just so _ that he’s done with his responsibilities long before he normally is. He has a sneaking suspicion that Matsuba is to blame--partially at the very least if the grannies at the shrine were any indication with their peering gaze and tittering gossip. 

(Ever since Matsuba and he started-- _ this _ (whatever  _ this _ is, [ ~~ something more than friendship and something more than lus ~~ ~~t~~ ] ) he’s felt  **different** . _Lighter_ , almost. As if the weight of the world wasn’t so much on his shoulders alone, but also Matsuba’s. It’s sappy and Hayato immediately flusters, embarrassment flooding his system in one full wave that has his expression going tight, his mouth pressing into a thin line. It’s unlike him to think such things but ever since Matsuba started coming around, it’s as if his world has been opening, slowly and slowly. 

Maybe it’s why he feels so strongly about the ghost-type gym leader. 

“I’m home.” He calls out, softly and before he can even get his shoes off, Matsuba is there, and his arms are warm and tight and  _ perfect. _ Hayato finds his eyes closing, reaching up to return the hug, his fingers interlocking behind the other's back. The only sound he makes is a soft sigh when he feels Matsuba’s figures  _ dig _ into his shoulders and drag down his back, then up, then back down again. He can feel his muscles relax under Matsuba’s firm touch, another, sweeter sigh passing his lips when he feels the other press a kiss onto the top of his head and if things weren’t already perfect enough--Matsuba informs him that the water is hot and the bath ready. 

(Lugia, sometimes he thinks he truly,  _ deeply _ loves Matsuba.)

Hayato breaks away from Matsuba first and leans up, up, up until he was on his tip-toes and brushes his own, chaste kiss against the other’s mouth (and his heart nearly bursts with emotion when he watches Matsuba’s lips tilt into that crooked smile of his, soft and loving and Hayato thinks,  _ I would die for that smile. _ )

He takes the time to remove his shoes and place them neatly in their spot by the door, following Matsuba into the bathroom afterwards. There, he takes the same care in removing his clothes, setting both his gym leader badge and police badge on a counter by the sink. He sees that Matsuba has already begun to rinse down and takes a moment to just  _ appreciate _ the way that the water slides down his body before flustering once more, his ears turning red in order to signal his less-than-chaste thoughts. Yet, Matsuba only gives him that smile and Hayato melts, moving until he could join Matsuba in rinsing off. It’s times like these where Hayato feels the closest with Matsuba, domestic almost as he grabs a bucket of warm water and gently pours it over Matsuba’s hair. Grooming another was a  _ love language _ that Hayato found himself speaking fluently, his fingers working shampoo into Matsuba’s hair, strong and sure and silent--as silent as the rest of Hayato’s affection.

He spends his time washing Matsuba’s hair and when it’s his turn, Matsuba takes his time to work the knots out of his shoulders.

They spend nearly an hour soaking in the tub afterwards.

The process leaves Hayato more tired than he’s felt in months, a calm weight pressing down on his mind through the entirety of dinner. It’s enough that once they're done cleaning the table, Matsuba with his  _ damned _ crooked smile and his  _ damned _ voice telling him that the birds were already cared for, Hayato feels nothing but content. 

And he continues to feel nothing but content when Matsuba slides into his futon and hugs him tight, tight,  _ tight _ until he’s fallen asleep.

  
  



End file.
